


Study Room Spirit

by starjay



Series: Halloween...but not really 2017 [6]
Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - High School, Gen, Ouija, Talking To Dead People, he just wants friends guys, hint at future sungpil if you squint, like wonpil is a ghost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 20:25:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12589884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starjay/pseuds/starjay
Summary: The study room at the end of the hall is rumoured to be haunted by a malevolent spirit, but in reality Wonpil is just a lonely ghost who wants to make friends.





	Study Room Spirit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blueyouthheaven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueyouthheaven/gifts).



> Almost there! This was one of the first ideas I had for this series, but I decided to post now because, well it's the sixth day and it's a Day6 fic...haha...
> 
> Unbeta'ed for the time being so please excuse any mistakes but feel free to point them out!
> 
> Halloween but not really day 6: ghost au

The halls buzzed with conversation as kids from the student council ran around putting up decorations for Halloween. Wonpil found himself looking forward to October 31st each year, for that was the only time people even entertained his existence, though they always ran away screaming when he revealed himself. That was counterproductive, and wasted much of his energy each time he attempted to hold a solid form, so he’d taken to just making random school supplies fly around.

The thing was, Wonpil was a ghost, and it wasn’t exactly the easiest to befriend people as a dead person.

As usual, Wonpil hovered around the study room at the very end of the hall on the ground floor, tucked out of the way in the far wing of the school where no one ever visited. And even if they did, it was with caution and whisperings of the malevolent spirit that haunted the room. Honestly, Wonpil had no idea how those rumours began in the first place, since he didn’t even start pranking the students until the late 1990s.

The school was fairly old, since he died as a teenager who was visiting the construction site while the school was first being built. He had gotten crushed by a giant crane whose driver was incredibly careless, and his spirit had been bound to the place ever since. Although he was able to moved around in the room freely, some invisible force never failed to tug him back should he try to cross the doorframe.

A group of students murmured amongst themselves as they approached the study room, and Wonpil pressed his ear against the door to hear them better. It was truly depressing how desperate he was for human contact, but it got lonely after seventy years spent as an invisible entity.

“...think the ghost will show himself?” one of the students asked their friend.

“Hundred percent. He always becomes more active around Halloween,” another student replied.

 _Yeah, because it’s the only time you guys believe in ghosts,_ Wonpil thought bitterly, rolling his eyes.

The door swung open with a creak, rusty hinges groaning. Four boys filed into the room with candles in their hands, and one of them held some sort of wooden board carefully. They walked right through Wonpil, fathering around the sol table in the room to set up what looked like a summoning circle. Wonpil drifted closer to watch them work. As the boys never turned on the lights, the only glow came from the individual candles flickering to life, casting eerie shadows on the walls.

Wonpil sighed. He recognized the boys as the ‘F4’ of the school, not because they were rich and good looking but because they were a band together and good looking. Unfortunately, their popularity meant he also heard some really ridiculous rumours about their misadventures, including one incident where they set off a smoke bomb in the teachers’ office to retrieve their instruments to practice. Obviously, the plan failed spectacularly, but the school had buzzed about the stunt for a week after. Idiots. Everyone knew that smoke bombs worked better when set off in the vents.

When the boys finished setting up, sitting at the four cardinal points around the table, Wonpil understood what they were about to do and sighed again. After all, it wasn’t uncommon for bold or superstitious students to try and ‘summon’ the ghost of the study room, either for good luck to pass a test or hex someone they hated. When Wonpil was in a good mood, he’d give study tips to hardworking students and tell the mischievous ones the best pranks to pull on their friends, but those days were few and far in between. Even so, he was intrigued why the quartet came find him, and he wondered what they would ask him. 

“O great spirit of the study room,” the guy with fluffy blond hair and glasses intoned when all of them had their hands on the planchette. “Grace us with your presence.”

 _So overly dramatic,_ thought Wonpil, moving closer to put his hand on the planchette.

“Stop being overly dramatic, Jae,” his friends whispered with silver, parted hair, making Wonpil laugh as he moved the piece to spell ‘hi’.

“Oh my god, it worked,” the cute student with a big nose said in awe.

“Be quiet! You’re not supposed to mention God when you commune with the spirits using a ouija board!” the fluffy haired guy - Jae - hissed.

 _“It’s okay,”_ Wonpil spelled out on the board, trying not to laugh again. These guys were alright, and maybe he could reveal himself without them freaking out too much.

“Thank you for understand, o great spirit,” Jae intoned once more in his theatrical voice.

 _“Stop that,”_ Wonpil replied.

“The ghost doesn’t like your theatrics, hyung,” the youngest of the quartet noticed. Wonpil was shocked at how in tune their thoughts were. Yeah, these guys were definitely alright.

Jae faked being hurt. Looking at the others sulkily, he said, “Why don’t one of you talk to the spirit, then?”

The silver haired guy leaned forward. “Hey spirit, how do I pass my math test tomorrow?”

Wonpil moved the planchette over the letters _S-T-U-D-Y_. This made all of them burst out laughing, dissipating the tension and fear that the ghost hadn’t noticed was present in the room before. The boys quieted down, thinking hard about what to say next, and he decided that it was now or never.

 _“I have something to show you guys,”_ Wonpil spelt out. _“Please don’t freak out.”_

“What did he say?” the cute guy asked. Ah, that’s right, the ouija board contained only English letters. Wonpil had learned the language over the years from students cramming for exams, disregarding the room’s haunted nature in favour of somewhere quiet to study.

The silver haired guy translated for him, and causing him to look apprehensive. “Don’t freak out? What, is he planning on appearing or something?” Bingo.

Gathering his energy, Wonpil focused until his form filled out, skin and clothes gaining a pale flush of colour as they solidified. He looked almost human now, except he knew his face was still sickly pale and that there was a glowy aura around his being.

Several things happened at once. The boys let go of the planchette so fast it went flying towards one of the candles, effectively extinguishing the weak flame. Cute boy with a big nose yelled and nearly fell backwards from his chair, almost knocking into another candle. It wobbled in its stand before stabilizing, which was a relief, for the school was so old, it would burn down in a heartbeat. The youngest kid stood up and lifted the chair, fully prepared to fight him. The silver haired guy somehow found a stray pencil to throw at him, and Wonpil let his apparition turn translucent for a second so the pencil would sail right through him, clattering harmlessly against the closed door. Jae just sat still through the chaos, as if his mind couldn’t quite process what he was seeing.

“I - ” Wonpil cleared his throat a few times, voice rough from disuse. “I said don’t freak out!”

“Wait,” Jae spluttered. “You’re the study room ghost?”

“Yes,” Wonpil huffed, crossing his arms. “And my name is Wonpil.”

The silver haired guy was the next to recover. “Younghyun. I was expecting you to be…I dunno, more terrifying. Dowoon, put the chair down. Sungjin, chill.”

The ghost rolled his eyes. The humans knew so little about him. They all expected him to be terrifying. He could be very well be intimidating if he wanted to! “It takes too much effort,” he settled on saying as an explanation. “Even just showing up visibly requires a lot of energy, which is why I don’t do it often. Most people just run away screaming, anyway.”

Dowoon put the chair down, though he was still eying him suspiciously. “Why don’t you just leave?”

Wonpil fixed him an unimpressed stare. “If I could, I would’ve left ages ago. But for some reason, my spirit is bound to this room, so I’m destined to an eternity of watching students suffer through exam season and occasionally entertain people who want to talk to spirits.”

“Doesn’t it get lonely sometimes?” This time, it was Sungjin who spoke up. He was still looking at the ghost with surprise, but his fear had been replaced with fascination.

“Yeah, but it’s not exactly easy to make friends when you’re a ghost.” Wonpil wondered if it was asking obvious questions time. “But I just have to live with it. Or, well, die with it.”

Jae grinned at his joke, and Wonpil felt appreciated for the first time in seventy years. “Hey man, you can totally be friends with us. You’re not scary at all.”

“So if I was scary, we wouldn’t be able to be friends?”

Younghyun nudged his friend. “What Jae is trying to say is that you are very welcome to be friends with us. We’ll come by to talk.”

Wonpil smiled, happy that his gut instinct of being able to appear to these guys were correct. A rush of giddy elation swelled in his chest, at the prospect of finally making friends. “That would be appreciated. Thank you. And you guys don’t have to set up a summoning circle next time. Those are for demons, not ghosts.”

Sungjin smiled back. “You don’t have to thank us. Everyone deserves friends.”

They bid their goodbyes soon after that since Wonpil couldn’t maintain his visible form much longer. His new friends promised to bring their instruments next time (except for Dowoon, as he was unable to transport an entire drum kit), and the ghost looked forward to hearing them play.

True to their words, a few days later, the door creaked open once again, revealing the four of them holding their instruments. Wonpil hadn’t actually thought they would return, but he was definitely glad they did. As they set up, Sungjin looked around the room as if to locate him, and took out a notebook and a pencil.

“Hey, Wonpil, I think you’re here, right? Last time you could touch the ouija board, so that means you can hold objects. So even if you can't show yourself right now, you can use the notebook to talk, okay?”

Wonpil smiled wide at the thoughtful gesture, and he wrote a simple thank you. He finally made new friends, and he planned to cherish them for as long as they would stay. (And if he drew a small heart next to the words just for Sungjin’s eyes only, well, that was nobody’s business.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading and be prepared for the last story! I'll do my best to upload tomorrow so look out for that! I love you all and have a safe Halloween (or day/night if you don't celebrate Halloween!)
> 
> ~ starjay


End file.
